


THiL Extra 1: How USUK met

by harin91



Series: Sharehouse AU [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Attempt at Humor, Bad Flirting, Bars and Pubs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:26:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7677211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harin91/pseuds/harin91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a 'The House in London' extra story, linked to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7450105/chapters/17486386">Chapter 2</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	THiL Extra 1: How USUK met

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: **not beta-ed, English is not my first language**.  
>  I'm brightly-painted-canvas on Tumblr.
> 
> Enjoy!

The pub was more and more crowded as the hours passed and people started surrounding the counter for their orders, blocking Arthur's view over the lively table of his house-mates.

He was too busy spilling beer and serving it to join them, anyway.

At some point Feliciano came by with a laughing and visibly happily inebriated Japanese guy to introduce him to Arthur and ask where the toilet was.

At some other point a tall, blonde and overly confident guy in a Ghostbusters t-shirt blocked once again his view over the housemates's table to inquire for some Diet Coke.

Arthur's eye twitched.

“ 404, request not found. Did you mean: 'beer'?” he asked sarcastically.

“ No, I meant Diet Coke.” replied with an unperturbed smile the obviously American lad, with the typical nasal and loud voice.

“ We don't serve that thing.” said Arthur, looking down at the empty beer tankards. He started moving them around, feign being preoccupied by non existent disorder.

“ I just had one.” said the American, placing an empty Coca Cola glass on the counter.

“ Ask Martha.” said then the waiter.

“ I'm asking... Arthur.” replied amusedly the American, reading Arthur's name-tag pinned on his black shirt: “Why wouldn't  _ Artie _ serve me Diet Coke?”

“ Because Arthur is busy,” snapped the Brit, losing his patience: “And Arthur doesn't serve under-aged annoying Americans with too much confidence who deliberately call me names other than mine.” he explained.

“ Artie is a nickname,” laughed the guy.

“ Not mine,” retorted the waiter: “And I don't know you.”

“ Alfred.” introduced himself the American, still smiling despite the obvious anger he was causing: “Nice to meet you. Can I get a Diet Coke?” he added with a wink, almost mocking the waiter.

Arthur raised one hand and pointed to a sign posted over the counter, reading: 'Don't hit on the waiters. They are likely to hit you back. On the face. With a chair' and smiled provocatively.

“ Dude, I'm not hitting on you. I just want a drink!” laughed loudly the American.

“ I see you two are getting along!” exclaimed Gilbert, appearing out of nowhere and immediately placing an arm around Alfred's shoulders, like they were already the best of mates: “Arthur, Alfred. Alfred, Arthur. There, I've been a good host.” he said, gesturing from the waiter to the American and back.

“ Host?” snorted Arthur looking at his German house-mate: “And of course if there's a new idiot in town it must be associated to you...” he commented.

“ He's associated with Feli, in fact. Uni buddies or something. But I find him awesome enough, just not as awesome as myself.” grinned the albino, nudging Alfred's shoulder.

“ You wish...” whispered the American, but then quickly added: “Pal, where do you think I can get another Diet Coke if this grumpy fella won't give me one?” he asked Gilbert.

“ Just ask Martha... wait, let me find her for you, pal.” replied the German, quickly disappearing once again in search for the waitress.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, his attention back on Arthur: “Everyone knows this Martha does a better job than you do, uh?” he teased: “Should I ask to speak with the manager?” he asked.

“ The manager is a fat ginger drunkard from New Castle and if he was here running the pub instead than somewhere else losing all his pennies playing poker, he would agree with me in preferring to serve fresh and perfectly healthy ale instead of your sugary poison. All said in a strong Geordie accent.” said confidently Arthur, with a winning grin: “You're welcome.”

Alfred raised both hands in a surrender sign, also whispering: “Fine, as long as I actually get my sugary poison.”

Arthur took a glass in his hand and started pouring amber-coloured beer in it, side-glancing Alfred once again and murmuring: “Insufferable American.”

“ Stuck-up, stubborn Brit.” retorted Alfred, leaning even more on the counter to cross his arms on the wooden surface and have a closer look at the bartender.

“ Your eyes are very green.” he noticed, surprised.

Arthur rolled said eyes and filled another glass, placing the full one on a tray: “Why are you still here? Can't Martha take your order to your table?” he sighed.

“ Are those freckles?” asked the American, amused for no reason.

“ What game are you playing?” exclaimed Arthur, suddenly a little more pink on the cheeks. He distracted himself from the American's insistent gaze by waving to another waiter, signalling to take away the full tray: “Do I have to remind you about the sign?” he added, once again pointing upward.

“ I'm just admiring your face and enormous eyebrows.” commented.

“ I'm just another idiotic comment away from slamming your handsome face on the counter and make you spit your perfect teeth one by one.” growled Arthur, bending to his eye level so to better intimidate the American.

Alfred leaned in even more, face to face with the bartender: “Do you think my teeth are perfect and my face is handsome?” he asked in a whisper, curiously and completely unaffected by the threat.

“ However,” recovered quickly Arthur from the low blow, adding: “They're completely wasted on a brainless, irreverent wanker like you.”

Alfred smiled a wolfish smile at less than twenty centimetres from Arthur's face.

“ Ok, stop it you two.” said a female voice, surprising them: they both jumped apart as Martha arrived quickly behind the counter and placed notes of new orders near the beer's pumps: “Arthur has work to do and I'm pouring you that Coke now, so you can leave my grumpy and  _ very single _ co-worker alone.” she said, winking at Alfred.

“ Not you too...” sighed Arthur, quickly getting back at his task of spilling beer, but not without another venomous look at the American, who smirked in triumph.

 

Alfred got back to the housemates's table with his glass of Diet Coke and something to say about the bartender which made Francis, Antonio and Gilbert laugh hysterically and Feliciano explain, mortified, that that was  _ the _ Brit, the fifth inhabitant of their house.

“ You told me he was nice!” exclaimed Alfred, faking an affronted expression: “Such a liar you are, Feli!”

“ He's been nice to me!” cried embarrassed the Italian.

Everyone (Kiku included, since by then he was almost completely drunk) laughed even louder.

Alfred then patted Feliciano on the head and smiled reassuring: “Don't worry, bro. It's just my luck with British people... they don't like me and I like to tease them a bit too much.” he winked.

“ I'm sure  _ Arthùr _ needs some more of that teasing,  _ mon ami _ .” grinned Francis, catching the bartender gazing toward the table's occupants and, simultaneously, losing his grip on the pump's lever, splashing beer foam on the counter.

“ _ Mi sentido de la pasión _ is tingling, Bonnefoy.” joked Antonio, placing a finger under his nose as to fake having a moustache.

“ And  _ mon sens de l'amour _ as well, Carriedo.” replied Francis, doing exactly the same.

“ I don't even know what they're talking about at this point.” shrugged Gilbert, making the others laugh again.


End file.
